


Ghosts That We Knew

by umakoo



Category: Thor (Movies), Thor: The Dark World - Fandom
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Thor Feels, Whump, mild violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-29
Updated: 2013-11-29
Packaged: 2018-01-02 19:23:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1060638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/umakoo/pseuds/umakoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"My crimes are no greater than Odin’s,” Loki says, and the flippant tone in his voice makes Thor’s nostrils flare. “Everything I did, I did for Asgard, for you-"</p><p>"You did it for <i>Loki</i>," Thor snarls, jostling Loki against the shelf, sending old trophies clattering across the floor. "Why did you even bother coming back? You could have left and never looked back. There is nothing for you here."<br/> </p><p>Post-Thor: The Dark World fic where Thor finds out Loki is alive and Loki realizes he's gone too far.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ghosts That We Knew

**Author's Note:**

> The premise of the fic is a mix of canon and the original script where Thor and Jane decided to break up and Thor returns to Asgard.
> 
> Hugs and lots of love to lokizillas and schaudwen for beta and helpful suggestions!

The bright burst of galaxies and nebulae fade around him as Thor's feet touch the solid surface of the observatory. His landing is far from graceful and he fails to keep his balance, falling on one knee, his body beyond exhausted. The Einherjar standing guard at the entrance turn their eyes on Thor and one of them makes a move to come to his aid, but Thor holds up his hand, shaking his head.

 

"I am fine," he breathes as he musters up what strength remains in his battleworn body, getting back to his feet.

 

His gaze turns to Heimdall's platform at the center of the oval room. Seeing it abandoned fills Thor's heart with heavy uneasiness. He does not regret asking for the Gatekeeper's help, for his plan would never have worked without the aid from his friends, but knowing that they have been punished for it makes Thor wish there had been another way to defeat Malekith.

 

"Has the Aether been brought to my father? The royal guards collected it last night from London," Thor asks the Einherjar as he makes his way across the observatory.

 

"Yes, sire," one of them answers. "The King awaits you in Glaðsheimr."

 

Thor nods and reaches for his hammer, for he is too drained to make the long walk back to the palace by foot. He spins Mjölnir around a few times and she carries him through the air over the gleaming Bifröst.

 

*

 

Most of the conversation with Odin is a blur, for Thor’s body is worn and bruised from battle and he can barely keep himself upright. He wonders if this is how his father feels before succumbing to the Odinsleep, but he knows he cannot rest until certain matters have been settled.

 

He is surprised by Odin's answer to his request to keep the existing arrangement by refusing to take the throne, but he knows better than to argue or question such unusual compliance.

 

"If I may... there is one more request I would make, father," Thor says, hesitating. Odin lifts one grey brow, urging him to continue. "What has become of Heimdall and my friends?"

 

His father shifts on the throne, letting out an impatient sigh. "They have been imprisoned for treason. That cannot come as a surprise to you."

 

Thor shakes his head, crestfallen.

 

"You would see me pardon them?" Odin continues.

 

Thor blinks, surprised, but he cannot tell if this is merely a ploy to prove how foolish and naive he is being, for he finds his father even harder to read than usual, the king's expression giving nothing away. He decides to try his luck and gives a hesitant nod.

 

Odin is silent for a long time, seemingly pondering Thor's request until finally, he beats Gungnir against the dais, the heavy clang resounding in the vast hall.  "It shall be done."

 

Thor's eyes grow wide at Odin's words. "Truly?" he asks, taking a few steps up the dais.

 

Odin lifts his hand as a sign for Thor to remain where he is. "All of you have committed a series of heinous crimes, but the outcome did prove out to be... favorable."

 

"Thank you, father, I am most grateful," Thor beams, but his joy is short-lived and his smile falters when he remembers that there is one more thing he needs to address. "Loki, he was... I-I did not have time to move his body," Thor stammers, voice thick with guilt. "Has he been brought home and given a proper burial?"

 

Odin's hold around Gungnir's golden shaft tightens, but his expression remains unreadable. "Your brother's body rests in the Halls of the Dead for now, waiting for the funeral arrangements to be completed, for even a Jötunn criminal deserves a burial."

 

“Loki died saving my life, father. It was an honorable death.”

 

Odin looks away, his mouth drawn to a tight line. "If you wish to bid him farewell, now is the time."

 

Thor nods, bowing his head. "I take my leave, then," he says, lifting Mjölnir from the ground to re-attach it to his belt, beginning the long walk to the Halls of the Dead in the eastern parts of the city.

 

*

 

The priests clad in their hooded robes lift their eyes from their tomes to pay Thor their respects as he steps through the large doors and enters their silent domain, the smell of embalming agents and centuries of death flooding his senses. He has not set foot within these halls since he and Loki last sneaked into the catacombs as young lads to find out if there truly were vicious Draugr in there, but childhood games are long forgotten now, and Thor’s heart is heavy with grief.

 

One of the priests guides Thor to a small secluded antechamber where the dead are prepared for their journey to the afterlife.

 

“I am sorry for your loss, Prince Thor,” the priest says and returns to his brethren to give Thor some privacy.

 

He stands alone in the arched doorway of the antechamber, but he feels as if he is being watched by unseen eyes, his skin crawling at the strange sensation.

 

Taking a deep breath, he steps into the small room and lays his eyes on Loki's lifeless body.

 

His brother lies on a slab of marble, clad in a simple linen tunic, his hands crossed over his chest. Loki's body has been washed, but his face still bears the strange ashen markings that had spread on his skin as he drew his last breath in Thor's arms, and Thor wonders if it had something to do with Loki's blood mixing with whatever coursed through the veins of the monstrous Dökkálfr.

 

He closes the small distance between them, coming to stand next to Loki's body, hovering over his expressionless face, and he is acutely aware that this will be his final moment with his brother.

 

When Loki fell from the Bifröst there was no closure, and Thor spent countless hours wishing for Loki's body to wash up on the cosmic shores of the realm so he could say his goodbyes. This time there is a body, but all Thor can manage is a broken litany of apologies. "I'm sorry... I'm sorry I failed to protect you. I’m sorry I did not know your heart as well as I thought I did."

 

He lays his hand on top of Loki's pale, cold fingers. "But you did it, brother," Thor continues, voice barely above a whisper, "you avenged our mother... And I owe you my life."

 

His vision blurs suddenly as hot tears spill from his eyes, landing on Loki's brow. He leans down to kiss them away, cupping Loki’s face gently, smoothing his fingers over the pallid skin and... something about it feels  _off_.

 

Thor frowns, allowing his hands to feel the sharp cheekbones, the long nose and the delicate curve of Loki's jaw. He knows his brother better than any living creature in the Nine Realms, for he has mapped every inch of Loki's body with each of his senses. He knows the sound of Loki's voice, the smell of his skin, the taste of his lips and the feel of his muscles beneath Thor's calloused fingers.

 

 _I must truly be exhausted_ , Thor thinks, for his hands do not recognize his own brother's face. His eyes see Loki's familiar features, but it is as if the bones beneath the skin do not match it.

 

Thor shakes his head and backs away a few steps. His own bones ache with injuries sustained from his battle against Malekith and his mind is on the verge of unconsciousness, now playing cruel tricks on him.

 

He brushes his knuckles against Loki's cheek one last time, combing a loose strand of black hair behind his ear.

 

"Be at peace, brother. We shall meet again and feast in Valhalla for an eternity."

 

*

 

Too exhausted to survey the damage done to the city, Thor makes his way to his rooms in the royal wing of the palace. He removes his battered armor, letting the pieces fall on the floor in his wake as he stumbles into the bath chamber.

 

He fills the large gold basin to the brim and sighs at the soothing feel of warm water washing over sore muscles. Most of his injuries are on the surface and require no visit to the Healing Halls and Thor does his best to clean the wounds and small cuts with a soft linen cloth. The brunt of the damage was not done by Malekith but by his monstrous general who Thor had battled in Svartalfheim. Had it not been for Loki’s foolish act of bravery, Thor might not have made it out of there alive, and the Aether would still be in the wrong hands.

 

As he sits in the warm bath, alone for the first time since this madness began, the mask of stoicism Thor had worn in public finally slips away allowing fresh tears to roll down his cheeks. His mother is gone and he will have to spend an eternity without Loki by his side, a thought so absurd that it feels like a bad dream Thor expects to wake up from any moment now.

 

_How did it come to this?_

 

The water eventually turns cool and Thor begins to shiver. He is vaguely aware of the strange sensation of being watched and he half expects to see Huginn and Muninn perched on the rafters above his head, but there is no sign of his father's ravens. Thor’s own eyes are red from the tears he's shed and he can barely make it out of the bath, his muscles trembling from exertion, but he manages to lift himself out of the water. He wraps a clean towel around his bruised hips, but as he prepares to leave, his gaze falls on the large golden door that connects the bath chamber with Loki's rooms.

 

 

*

 

The hinges of the door make a wailing sound as Thor pushes it open and steps inside. The air in the room is musty, but the dim magelights floating near the ceiling react to his presence and come to life above his head, filling the chambers with their warm glow.

 

Thor defies the exhaustion for a little while longer and wanders around the bedroom, trying to find solace in the familiar surroundings and the memories they hold. He picks up Loki’s old things and turns them over in his hands before setting them back to their proper places. His gaze falls on an old tome he remembers Loki reading to him in bed the night before Thor’s ruined coronation, tales of the war between the Jötnar and the Aesir. He runs his fingers along the spine, his jaw clenched. All Thor needed was a nudge from his brother and he was ready to wage war against an entire realm. He tears his eyes away from the book and makes his way to the large canopy bed that stands in the middle of the room, letting his towel pool on the floor as he climbs into the bed, burrowing under thick furs. He buries his face in the pillows and inhales deeply, but Loki's scent is long gone and all that remains is the smell of plain fabric.

 

*

 

Sol and Mani ride across the sky many times while Thor slumbers. His sleep is deep and mostly dreamless and days turn into weeks as his broken body slowly mends itself, torn muscle and bruised flesh knitting back together.

 

Four weeks later, Thor's body has recovered and he begins to toss in bed restlessly as his sleep becomes more shallow. His dreams are of childhood days, of the soft swish of his mother’s skirts and the smell of her perfume, of Jane Foster and her kind brown eyes. But mostly they are of Loki, as they have always been.

 

He is aware of the mattress dipping and a moment later, long arms embrace him from behind. The touch is familiar and Thor responds to it eagerly, turning to lie on his back as Loki pulls back the furs and straddles his lap.

 

"This is a dream," his brother whispers, leaning down to kiss the corner of Thor's mouth.

 

"A dream," Thor sighs into the kiss.

 

He wraps his arms around Loki, pulling his body tightly against his own, pleased by their shared nakedness. Both of them are hard and desperate in mere seconds, rutting against each other’s touch-starved bodies. Thor’s hands caress every inch of Loki he can reach, his touch possessive, and Loki responds with kisses that are hungry and full of longing.

 

The pressure in Thor’s groin is becoming unbearable and he is vaguely aware that he has not found release in weeks, not since the campaign in Vanaheim was won. He grinds his hips against Loki’s arousal, their movements hurried but satisfying and Thor can soon feel Loki’s seed spreading wetly against his stomach as his brother writhes and gasps in his arms. He grips his own cock and slips it into the cleft of Loki’s ass, pressing the head against the tight ring of muscle, but he spills before he is able to bury himself inside.

 

Loki molds their lips together and Thor sighs into the kiss, a warm sense of satisfaction washing over him. He wraps his arms around his brother and pulls him close, willing the dream to continue for a while longer.

 

“I cannot spend an eternity without you,” Thor whispers, inhaling the rich scent of Loki’s hair. “I cannot.” He tightens his hold around Loki’s waist when he feels his brother shift in his arms, unwilling to let Loki slip away. “I will go to Valhalla… There has to be a way to bring you back home.”

 

Loki frees himself from Thor’s embrace and sits up in his lap. He stares at Thor with a stunned expression on his face, shaking his head. “I am not in Valhalla.”

 

Thor frowns, the implication of Loki’s words bringing forth a wave of red, hot anger in him. Loki died an honorable death and he deserves to feast with the bravest of warriors, not the miserable suffering of Helheim. Thor sits up and cups Loki’s face in his hands. “Then I will make a deal with the mistress of Hel herself. I will find a way to bring you back, no matter what the cost.”

 

“No,” Loki protests, sounding alarmed, “Thor, no.”

 

“Why do you argue? This is  _my_  dream,” Thor murmurs, stroking his fingers against Loki’s cheeks, feeling the soft texture of his skin, the bones underneath it.

 

He recognizes this face.

 

Thor’s hands freeze and his eyes lock with Loki’s. They watch each other as heavy silence descends upon them. Loki jerks back and attempts to pull away, but Thor refuses to let him go.

 

"Loki?" he gasps, and the look of panic that appears on Loki’s face is all the confirmation Thor needs.

 

This is not a dream.

 

Tears prick at Thor’s eyes as he stares at his brother.

 

Loki lives.

 

_Loki lives._

 

The realization hits him all at once, washing over him like a tidal wave, the revelation crushing and raw. The air in the room grows thick with the smell of ozone as Thor’s mind struggles to understand this cruel new betrayal. His hands move lower out of instinct, his fingers wrapping around the long column of his brother's throat. " _Loki_ ," Thor growls and his hands begin to squeeze the slender neck.

 

He can feel muscle and sinew strain underneath his palms as Loki struggles to draw breath. "Thor... brother," Loki gasps, his own hands clawing at Thor's wrists.

 

Thor sees Loki's lips move as he pleads for Thor to let go, but all he can hear is the rush of his berserker blood pounding in his ears and he continues to squeeze, his entire body shaking with a desire for violence.

 

Loki's eyes begin to water and he is mere moments away from passing out, but Thor is unable to let go. He pushes Loki down against the mattress and feels his brother thrash underneath him and aim a weak kick to his kidneys, but Thor does not cease his hold around Loki’s neck, his mind foggy with bloodlust.

 

"Thor!" Loki croaks, and there's a sharp burn as Loki's palm presses against Thor's own throat, but it's not the pain of the mild frost bite that makes Thor release his grip, but the sight of the strange face that stares up at him.

 

Loki takes advantage of Thor's surprise and he uses the opportunity to crawl to the other side of the bed, his red eyes glaring at Thor as his blue hand comes up to massage his throat.

 

Thor had known about Loki's true heritage, but he has not seen his Jötunn form until now. The overwhelming rage simmers down as Thor stares at the stranger in the bed. The blue in Loki's skin is already fading away and the crimson in his eyes shifts back to green while he continues to gasp for breath.

 

"You tried to strangle me!" Loki cries out, but his accusation turns into a fit of coughs.

 

"You let me believe you were dead!" Thor shouts back as soon as he recovers from the shock of seeing Loki’s Jötunn form. "I watched you die in my arms, saw you draw your final breath!" Angry tears spill from Thor’s eyes as his mind goes over their last moments in Svartalfheim. "The things you said to me... were they nothing but lies?"

 

"I did die," Loki insists, crawling closer on his hands and knees.

 

"Liar!" Thor shakes his head. "You planned it all, you meant to deceive me from the start." His right hand forms a fist, but he holds himself back, forcing his palm to open and relax against his naked thigh.

 

“Of course I did! Or did you honestly believe I would let you put me back in that cell?” Loki spits, “no, Thor… I would rather die than spend an eternity in imprisonment, cast aside and forgotten, nothing but a bad memory.”

 

Thor takes in the wild look in Loki’s eyes and he does not doubt his brother’s words.

 

“Loki…”

 

“ _I was dead_  and I do not know how I came back, if there was something in that beast’s blood or if the Norns did not want my part in this story to end so soon, but when I woke up, I was alone, half buried in ash and razor sharp rocks.”

 

"Why didn’t you tell me you were alive?” Thor exclaims. Loki drops his gaze and Thor tastes bile on this tongue as he realizes the depth of Loki's deception. "The body in the crypts... You let me mourn some  _stranger_? Loki, how could you?"

 

"How could _you_  just leave me there in that wasteland? You left me there to rot!" Loki snarls, but he falls silent when he sees the deep hurt in Thor's eyes.

 

“Do not dare to blame this on me,” Thor growls, “I’ve mourned you twice now and it is the hardest thing I have ever had to do, a pain you cannot even imagine.”

 

Loki opens his mouth to argue, but Thor refuses to hear any more of his lies. He turns his back to Loki and returns to his own room, but he barely has time to pull on a pair of breeches before Loki follows on his heels, dressed in one of his long undershirts.

 

"If you mourned my death, then why are you so angry now? I thought you'd be happy to see I still draw breath." Loki tries to grab Thor's shoulder, a hint of desperation creeping into his touch, but Thor shakes himself free. "I did everything you asked!" Loki exclaims, his tone becoming defensive. “I followed your foolish plan, I protected the mortal, saved your wretched life…I even offered you the throne and when you refused it, your freedom!"

 

Thor freezes and turns around slowly. "What?"

 

It is a rare thing for Loki to get caught lying. He licks his lips, his eye darting around the room. A nervous laughter escapes from his mouth.

 

"I only meant that-"

 

"Cease your lying, trickster. What have you done to our father?" Thor demands, now aware that Asgard has been in the hands of a false king. He crowds into Loki's personal space, driving his brother against one of the trophy shelves.

 

Loki blinks furiously and his brows knit together in visible annoyance. His plans are unraveling right before his eyes and there is nothing he can do to stop it.

 

"The truth.  _Now, Loki_ ,” Thor growls, leaning closer.

 

"He is quite safe, I promise you. He... he fell into the Odinsleep when I returned from Svartalfheim," Loki explains.

 

"Did he now? How convenient," Thor says, his voice a low rumble. "You expect me to believe that father just happened to fall into his slumber when left alone with you?"

 

"He was weak! You know he was," Loki retorts. "Blinded by grief... old and feeble, incapable of making the right decisions. Or would you deny this?"

 

Thor's jaw clenches, but he remains silent.

 

"I... I forced the Sleep on him," Loki confesses, and Thor lets out a dry, humorless laugh, shaking his head. Loki frowns, visibly frustrated. "He would have fallen into his slumber sooner or later! It was only a matter of time. Asgard could not be without a king during its time of need. By taking away the burden of ruling from him, I merely made certain that Asgard was in capable hands until you were fit to take the throne."

 

"I fail to see how Asgard is better off in the hands of a convicted criminal," Thor huffs.

 

"My crimes are no greater than Odin’s,” Loki says, and his flippant tone makes Thor’s nostrils flare. “Everything I did, I did for Asgard, for you-"

 

"You did it for  _Loki_ ," Thor snarls, jostling Loki against the shelf, sending old trophies clattering across the floor. "Why did you even bother coming back? You could have left and never looked back. There is nothing for you here."

 

Loki's mouth falls open, but no words come out. He licks his lips and his gaze lowers briefly to Thor's own mouth.

 

"Did you mean it?" Loki whispers, suddenly breathless, "would you have journeyed to Hel for me? Made a deal with Hela herself?"

 

Thor backs away to put some distance between them.  _Aye, I would_ , is the truth, but "I will not mourn you again, Loki," is what comes out. "You will show me what you have done to our father and after that you will remove yourself from my sight."

 

 

*

 

Loki leads Thor into their father's private chambers and the room appears to be empty, but Thor knows it is simply one of Loki's illusions and he commands his brother to lift it. Loki waves a hand and the curtain of falsehoods is pulled back, revealing the All-father to their eyes. The king sleeps in his bed as he always does when he succumbs to the Odinsleep, surrounded by a golden halo.

 

Thor takes a seat at his father's bedside, but Loki lingers in the doorway.

 

"I told you he's fine."

 

Thor reaches through the golden barrier to touch Odin’s hand, the skin under his fingers paper-thin and wrinkled. He presses his thumb against his father’s wrist and feels for a pulse, breathing out a relieved sigh when he finds it, weak and slow, but it is there.

 

Loki hesitates a moment before joining Thor on the other side of the bed.

 

"What did you do with the Aether?" Thor asks after a while, meeting Loki's eyes over their father's sleeping form.

 

Loki licks his lips nervously and Thor knows he won't like the answer.

 

"I gave it away.”

 

"Loki... what have you done!?"

 

"The Titan is still after the gems! It is not wise to keep them in one place. I had Sif and Volstagg deliver the Aether to an outside party while you recovered."

 

"And can this  _outside party_  be trusted not to betray us all?"

 

Loki falls silent and Thor can tell his brother has no answer for him.

 

"Thor?" Loki calls as Thor gets up and begins to walk away.

 

"I will take the throne until father is well," Thor tells him, knowing he has no other choice. He hears Loki's footsteps echo against the marble floor as he hurries after Thor.

 

"Thor...  _brother_ -"

 

"Do not call me that," Thor interrupts, "for you and I are done."

 

*

 

Heavy rains fall from darkened skies for days on end, the weather mirroring the young king's dark mood. Thor's friends are worried, but they respect his sorrow and leave him be unless they have official business with him. The anger Thor feels is all-consuming and fierce, but it is not in his nature to hold on to such rage. It was always Loki who was unable to let go of the hurts and offences done against him, hoarding them and keeping them close to his heart. Thor's anger burns bright for a fortnight until it begins to dull and the rains finally cease falling.

 

Asgard still stands after Loki’s short rule and Thor cannot find anything wrong no matter how hard he looks for something to be amiss. The only damage the city has suffered is from Malekith’s siege and Thor busies himself with physical work, helping to rebuild where the attack has left Asgard in ruins. He asks Heimdall about the Aether and the Gatekeeper assures him the gem is safe, at least for the time being, but Thor still doesn’t trust this ‘Collector’ not to betray them if given the chance.

 

He takes time to check on his friends on Earth through Hliðskjálf and the sight of Jane moving on with her life is bittersweet, but Thor knows they made the right decision when they agreed to part ways.

 

"Do you miss her? The mortal?" Fandral asks one evening when he and Thor are clearing rubble from a collapsed archway.

 

"I do," Thor nods. "She offered me her kindness and her wisdom when I was in need of both." He lifts a huge boulder and sets it aside before crushing it to smaller pieces with Mjölnir.

 

"But you will not return to her?" Fandral asks.

 

Thor shakes his head, his expression turning a little wistful. "She deserves someone who has time for her more than once or twice every decade. It is better this way."

 

Fandral moves closer and gives Thor's shoulder a companionable pat and they go back to clearing rubble until Volstagg comes to fetch them for Gunnhilde's famous smoked salmon rolls and cold mead.

 

*

 

Odin continues to sleep in his chambers and Thor has the royal seiðkonur put up magical barriers around his father’s body to assure no harm will come to him, for the king no longer has a queen to guard his sleep.

 

“He has put it off for too long,” Eir says as she examines Odin’s sleeping form. “It is crucial that he is allowed to complete the Sleep this time.”

 

Thor stands behind her, his expression grave. “How long do you think it will take for my father to awake?”

 

“A decade, a century, I cannot say,” Eir replies. “At this point, the Sleep is not merely replenishing the OdinForce, my prince…”

 

Thor nods, understanding what is left unsaid. He looks at his father and is taken aback by how small Odin looks in his bed, how old and frail he has become. Thor begins to understand why his father was in such a hurry to urge Thor to take the throne.

 

“I will do my best to rule in your stead, father.”

 

*

 

Thor is surprised to see that Loki remains in Asgard, but he knows his brother has not fled the city, for he feels Loki’s presence and recognizes his attempts to watch Thor like a hawk in the guise of strangers, the illusions so clumsy that Thor suspects Loki wants him to be aware of him. There is often a pale, dark-haired stranger nearby when Thor is out in public, sometimes a man, sometimes a woman, but always familiar enough to make certain Thor is not allowed to forget Loki for too long. 

 

Thor cannot understand why Loki chooses to stay and plague him with his presence, but as his anger settles, he begins to wonder if anything his brother told him could be true. What little trust he managed to regain in Loki as their shared grief brought them together again was crushed by Loki’s most recent betrayal, and Thor is painfully aware of everything Loki has done over the past few years.

 

"How could he survive?" Thor mutters to himself as he sits on Hliðskjálf one evening, but the only answer he gets is a quiet caw from Huginn.

 

Loki is still a wanted criminal, but most of Asgard continues to believe the second prince remains locked up in the dungeons and Thor, against his better judgment, chooses to keep his presence a secret from all but his friends. They disapprove and call him a fool, but he cannot keep something so big from them and he needs Heimdall to watch Loki in case he decides to try something.

 

Thor has taken to sleeping in one of the guest rooms on the other side of the royal wing but keeping his thoughts away from Loki proves to be a harder task than he had imagined. He may be able to ignore Loki’s masked presence in a crowded room, but his brother still continues to visit Thor in his dreams, most often in the shape of the little raven-haired prince who used to get Thor in a heap of trouble, but who was always ready to lead him out of it.

 

There are moments when Thor cannot resist the temptation to spy on Loki when he is seated upon the throne. He learns that when Loki is not trailing after Thor in disguise he mostly stays in his old rooms or the royal libraries. The first time Thor spies on his brother, he catches Loki bathing and turns his gaze away almost immediately, feeling his cheeks flush bright red. The second time he sees Loki seated in front of his dresser, grooming his hair and face and Thor almost rolls his eyes, the familiar sight of Loki’s old vanity bringing forth an involuntary burst of fondness in his heart.

 

When he catches Loki in their mother’s old rooms, Thor is tempted to look away, feeling guilty for spying on such a private moment. Loki sits at their mother’s old loom, running his fingers gently through the threads of a tapestry she had been working on, never to be finished.

 

Thor can see the tremble in Loki’s hand a moment before he begins to weep. His own hands squeeze at the hard stone arm rests of the throne as he watches Loki collapse against the loom, a broken mantra of “I’m sorry, I didn’t know, I’m sorry, I never meant for this,” spilling from his lips.

 

 _I should have been there for her. We both should have been there for her_ , Thor thinks, his eyes prickling with tears as he turns his gaze away.

  

*

 

Thor is seated at Odin’s large golden desk in the king’s study, poring over piles of official paperwork when a quiet knock on the door distracts him from his work.

 

“Yes?”

 

The heavy door is pushed open enough to allow a young page to slip through the crack, and he straightens up in his chair, setting his quill on the table. The boy’s hands are full and when Thor realizes the child is carrying Thor’s armor, he gets up from his chair and crosses the room to take the heavy burden from the boy’s hands before he falls over under its weight.

 

“What is this?” Thor asks, bemused. “I did not send for my armor.”

 

The page huffs and pants and wipes at his forehead, trying to catch his breath. “My lord, your armor has been repaired,” he breathes.

 

“But I did not even send it to the smith.” Thor had meant to see to the repairs himself, but once he had finally disengaged himself of his torn and battered armor, the call of his healing sleep had drowned out his better intentions.

 

He takes the package to the desk, undoing the thick leather cords around it and picks up his chest plate, running his fingers over the immaculate surface. All the dents and scratches have been mended and the disks shine brighter than ever.

 

No smith Thor knows has the skill to achieve such perfection.

 

He picks up one of the vambraces and turns it over in his hands, admiring the intricate designs that have been worked into the steel surface: protective runes and a lovingly carved image of Mjölnir.

 

Thor touches the carvings and his expression darkens when he feels clear traces of magic coursing under his fingertips. Loki’s magic. He turns around and lays his eyes on the young page, takes note of the black hair and the familiar green of his eyes.

 

“Are you pleased, my lord?” the boy asks, hungry for praise like a cat bringing presents to its master.

 

Knowing who lurks behind the innocent face of the child makes Thor want to lash out, but he keeps his composure.

 

“I suppose it will suffice,” he says, voice harsh.

 

“Suffice?! It’s better than new!” Loki cries out, his childish face twisting in visible frustration.

 

Thor lifts one brow and moves his eyes to the door to remind Loki of the presence of the guards in the hallway. Loki follows Thor’s gaze and seems to remember the guise he’s hiding behind.

 

Schooling his face back to innocent and meek, Loki gives Thor a low bow. “I take my leave then, my lord,” he says, failing to hide the bitter disappointment from his young voice.

 

Thor waits until he is alone before summoning the pieces of the armor to mold around his body. It fits perfectly and Thor can feel the various fortifying enchantments Loki has worked into the steel course through his muscles. He cannot deny that the armor truly is better than new, but it feels more like a bribe than a genuine gift.

 

*

 

Thor can see Loki is becoming increasingly frustrated and bitter in his lonely existence in the shadows, but he makes a few more failed attempts to placate Thor's anger with seemingly well-meaning boons.

 

Thor wakes up one morning to news that the training arena, which had been reduced to rubble has been repaired overnight. He hurries to the new and improved training grounds and finds his friends already sparring in the ring, covered in sweat and grime, but looking genuinely happy for the first time in months.

 

"Did the Builder of the Wall and his horse return from the dead or how is it possible that the entire arena has been rebuilt over the course of one single night?" Fandral calls out as he tries to avoid the swift strikes from Sif's wooden staff.

 

"How indeed?" Thor mutters to himself. He looks around, searching for a familiar face in the crowd that's already gathered around the ring and he spots Loki near the weapons rack in the form of a buxom maiden. Loki meets Thor's eyes over the distance, a self-satisfied grin splayed across his unusually plump lips, but the lack of a smile on Thor's own lips turns Loki's expression sour and he vanishes into the crowd in a flurry of billowing robes. 

 

*

 

Despite Loki's efforts to get on Thor's good side, Thor is no closer to forgiving Loki than he was before and it doesn’t take long for his brother to fall back to his old mischievous ways. Loki doesn’t attempt anything too sinister, though his ruses have always been malicious in nature, albeit harmless in execution, but as long as they continue to be aimed at Thor and no one else is hurt, Thor chooses to ignore them, knowing that Loki is trying to provoke him.

 

He is having dinner with his friends in one of the smaller dining halls one evening when a sudden gust of wind appears out of nowhere, toppling goblets and blowing out the candles in the chandeliers. The banners that hang from the rafters flutter in the air until everything goes still as if nothing had happened.

 

They all eye their surroundings suspiciously.

 

“Strange weather we’re having,” Fandral remarks.

 

“Loki…” Thor sighs. “Just ignore it.”

 

They go back to their dinners, but when Thor takes another bite from his pheasant, he spits it back to his plate, tasting nothing but ash in his mouth.

 

A trick of Loki’s he remembers well from their youth.

 

Volstagg takes in Thor’s reaction and stares at his own dinner with pure horror in his eyes. “Oh… Oh no, not the food. Anything but the food.” He skewers a piece of pork with his fork and takes a hesitant bite, letting out a tremendous sigh of relief when he discovers his dinner remains untouched.

 

“Do you think it is wise to let Loki roam the halls unchecked?” Fandral asks, lifting up his goblet and filling it with mead again. “His magic should be bound at least.”

 

Thor shakes his head, pushing his ruined dinner away. “Only my father has the skills needed to bind Loki’s magic. And he is angry with  _me_ , I do not think he will try to harm anyone else.”

 

“I must disagree with you,” Fandral huffs. “The last time Loki was angry with you, he tried to take over Midgard,” he reminds, quite needlessly.

 

“It is not that simple,” Thor argues, “you do not know the whole truth of it. Even I do not know everything.”

 

“What reason does Loki have to be angry?” Volstagg asks through a mouthful of food. “If anything, he should be grateful he is still in one piece after all he has done.”

 

Thor frowns at his friend’s words, even if he knows them to be true. "It is not that simple," he repeats quietly.

 

Sif sets her goblet down, deciding to join the conversation. “Loki has always been most cruel when he is jealous and desires Thor’s attention.”

 

Thor turns to look at Sif and he recognizes the old hurt in her eyes. He reaches out and runs his fingers through Sif’s long, raven hair, remembering the days of their youth when her locks shone golden like fresh summer wheat.

 

“This possessive need he has for you, it is not healthy,” Sif says, jaw clenched, leaning away from Thor’s touch.

 

Thor lets his hand drop from her hair and looks away. “Aye… It is not.”

 

*

 

When Thor takes a seat on the throne after dinner and turns his gaze on Loki’s rooms he finds his brother pacing in his chambers amid a self-made mess. The magelights floating near the high ceiling are spinning around furiously and the furs from Loki’s bed lie in a heap at the foot of the bed. There are pieces of broken inkwells and baubles on the floor with dark spots of ink still wet on the wall where they have been thrown and shattered.

 

Trepidation creeps into Thor’s heart as he takes in the manic look on Loki’s face.

 

*

 

Thor spends most of his free evenings in one of the local taverns, nursing a tankard of ale until the innkeeper or one of his friends sends him home. He stumbles through the quiet palace corridors, his mind numb from the vast amount of drink he’s had, but he does not miss the second pair of footsteps that begin to trail after him when he passes the royal library.

 

Thor makes sure he’s out of sight before he spins around and grabs Loki by his lapels, pushing him against the nearest wall. The illusion Loki is hiding behinds fades when Thor’s hand makes contact with his skin and Thor comes face to face with his brother for the first time in months.

 

“I grow tired of you trailing after my every step as if you were my very shadow.”

 

“And _I_ grow tired of you ignoring me!” Loki spits and there is a frantic, half-mad gleam in his green eyes as he stares at Thor, his chest heaving with his panting breaths. “Put me in chains, have my head, I care not, just...  _don’t ignore me_.”

 

Loki’s words and the desperate edge in his voice leave Thor stunned, but he has no time to respond, because in the next moment, Loki’s lips are pressed against his and his tongue licks into Thor’s mouth in a hungry, punishing kiss.

 

Thor doesn’t know if he responds out of instinct or because he is in his cups, but he allows his grip on Loki’s tunic to tighten as he pulls his brother closer, suckling on Loki’s warm tongue. He hears one of them moan into the kiss and when he realizes the noise came from him, he pulls back, wiping at his mouth. There is a sour taste of juniper wine on his tongue and a closer look at Loki's unfocused gaze tells Thor his brother has also been drinking tonight.

 

Loki leans closer in a sloppy attempt to steal another kiss, but Thor presses a hand to his chest and holds him back. "Why are you still here? I have made no attempt to imprison you, why do you insist on lingering?"

 

"You oaf!" Loki screams, visibly frustrated, his hands grasping at Thor's cape. “I stay for  _you_.”

 

Thor shakes his head. "You stay because you fear the Titan. You stay to save your own skin."

 

Whatever argument Loki had been about to shout at Thor is left unsaid and there is pure, naked fear in his eyes at the mere mention of Thanos.

 

Thor knows close to nothing about Loki's experiences in the abyss, but he knows enough about the Titan to imagine several scenarios, all of them more terrifying than the other. The age-old instinct to protect his little brother winds its way to the surface and Thor takes Loki’s hand in his own, giving it a light squeeze.

 

“Loki…”

 

There are footsteps echoing down the hallway and Loki yanks his hand away, vanishing just as two Einherjar making their evening rounds appear from behind the corner and walk past Thor.

 

Thor doesn’t know if he’s relieved or angry about the interruption, but he does not return to the guest room that night. Instead, he climbs the long stairs to Odin’s bedchamber and sits in the seat their mother used to occupy whenever she stayed by her husband’s side, guarding his sleep.

 

Thor lays his gaze on Odin who continues to slumber under the golden barrier, wondering if his father would have been as accepting of Thor’s choices as Loki appeared to be.

 

Thor’s thoughts turn back to the encounter in the hallway and he cannot forget the fear he saw in Loki’s eyes. In his heart he knows that the longer he continues to punish Loki with indifference, the deeper the damage between them will become. And it is not just Loki who feels the effects of their rift. Knowing that his brother is back home and chooses to stay is a temptation Thor finds harder and harder to resist, for underneath the anger and hurt will always be centuries of love and a fierce desire to mend their broken bond.

 

He wishes their mother was here to offer him her counsel, for it was always she who understood Loki the best. But even if she is beyond his reach, Thor knows she would not want his sons to fight. She would see them mend the hurts between them and be at peace once more.

 

_You are all he has left. You must not turn your back on him now._

 

Thor doesn’t know if the words he hears are his own or their mother’s, but deep down, he knows them to be true.

 

*

 

Thor eventually bids his father goodbye and goes back to his own rooms, the mead from earlier still warm in his belly. He goes to his study where the walls are covered with maps and pieces of parchments that show battle strategies and different military outposts Asgard has established across the realms. The threat of the Marauders has finally been dealt with after nearly two years of constant battle and Thor does not wish to see another military camp for a century or two.

 

He goes to a small cabinet at the end of the room and takes out a bottle of the finest and strongest wine Alfheim has to offer, a gift from Loki that Thor had been saving for a special occasion. He finds himself two silver goblets and makes his way to the bath chamber, to Loki’s golden door.

 

*

 

Loki is seated in his favorite armchair near the fireplace and the room is pristine and organized once more. Loki himself appears to be drunk, which Thor decides to count in his favor, for he doubts either of them could manage this if they were sober. Thor joins his brother by the fire, slumping into the second armchair, the bottle of wine in one hand and the two goblets in the other.

 

Loki acknowledges his presence by shifting in his own chair and Thor can see he is already nursing a fresh bottle of juniper wine in his hands.

 

“Skoal,” Loki says as he lifts it up to his lips, giving Thor a small smile, the gaze in his half-lidded eyes relaxed and somewhat melancholy.

 

Thor returns the smile and drops both goblets to the floor where they tumble softly against an old bear skin rug, and brings his own bottle of elf wine to his lips.

 

“Skoal.”

 

They sit and drink and say nothing, the silence between them bearable but loaded with tension despite the soothing effects of the alcohol. Thor allows his gaze to rest on Loki, taking in his changed appearance. Loki has done his best to mend his looks, but the last two years have been undeniably rough on him, but Thor keeps his thoughts to himself.

 

Loki eventually meets Thor’s eyes and they continue to watch each other, neither of them speaking a word, the room still and quiet save for the crackle of fire and the eternal rumble of the waterfalls outside of the windows.

 

A few hours later, Thor is sitting on the bear skin rug at the foot of his chair and when he lifts his bottle to his lips he finds it empty. “Damn,” Thor mutters, letting the bottle slip from his fingers.

 

Loki slides down from his chair and joins Thor on the floor. He feels around the rug, searching for one of the silver goblets and fills it with his juniper wine, handing it out to Thor who gives a hum of gratitude.

 

*

 

It is Loki who finally breaks the silence.

 

“I was going to leave,” he says, voice soft and slightly slurred from the drink. “When I saw your body had healed and you were ready to wake up, I was going to, shall we say, make my escape.”

 

Thor straightens his back, his wine-dulled senses suddenly alert again. “Why didn’t you?” he asks, trying to keep the rough edge away from his voice.

 

Loki takes a deep drink from his bottle, his eyes fixed on something beyond Thor’s line of sight. "I suppose... I did not have a plan after all," he says with a sheepish grin on his lips.

 

Thor knows his brother to be an opportunist, his mind ever-shifting and impossible to predict, and it does not surprise him to hear Loki is without a plan. "And... was that the only reason?"

 

Loki still doesn't meet Thor's eyes, but he shakes his head. “It was not." He takes another drink before continuing. "When I turned my gaze upon your mortal, it appeared she was not expecting you to return to her as a lover… and when you welcomed me in your arms, even if you thought I was a dream, I... ”

 

Loki does not finish his sentence, but Thor recognizes the age old love and jealousy warring in his brother.

 

“I will always care for Jane Foster, Loki,” Thor says. “She will always be my friend.”

 

Loki’s expression turns sour and he takes a drink to hide his scowl.

 

“But what you said to me as we made our way through the ruins of Svartalfheim…”

 

Loki sets his bottle down, shifting closer. "Yes?”

 

“I do not know if you were trying to spite me or if you truly were trying to keep me from heartache, but it does not make it any less true. It was the truth I did not wish to hear. Jane and I are from two different worlds and I can never give her the love she deserves, not when I can hardly find the time to visit her,” Thor meets Loki’s eyes over the small distance that still remains between them, “not when my heart will always belong to another.”

 

And that is the truth of it. Thor knows it is not healthy, this raw need he has for Loki and the strange codependency they have shared since they were but young boys, but he also knows he will never love anyone as dearly as he loves Loki.

 

Thor startles out of his thoughts when he feels Loki’s weight settle against his shoulder. He lifts his arm to allow Loki to burrow against his chest, his hand coming to rest at the nape of Loki’s neck where his fingers begin to play with the soft curls of his inky hair.

 

He brings the goblet to his lips and drinks what remains of Loki’s wine. “What happened to us?” he sighs.

 

So many things hang between them, hurts old and new. Some run bone deep and some that only time can heal. Thor knows this truce between them is a frail thing and now is not the time to discuss what has been said and done in anger and desperation, nor is it time to reminisce, for the pain and grief over what has been lost is still too near for both of them.

 

“I’m sorry,” Loki whispers, his lips moving against Thor’s clavicle.

 

Thor brushes his thumb against Loki’s cheek and presses a soft kiss to the crown of his head. “As am I.”

 

*

 

They remain huddled together as dawn emerges outside of the tall windows. Thor is aware that Loki is nuzzling at his throat, his warm breaths ghosting over the sensitive spot where jaw meets the thick muscles of Thor’s neck. Loki’s lips are painted red from the wine and the sight awakens something carnal in Thor. He doesn’t know who initiates the first kiss, but in the next moment, he is pulling Loki into his lap and they begin to trade hungry kisses, sloppy in their eagerness, their goblets forgotten on the floor, wine seeping into the rug.

 

“Brother,” Loki sighs as he nips at Thor’s bristled jaw, grinding their hips together. When he notices the lingering hesitation in Thor’s touches, Loki takes Thor’s hands and guides them to his body, urging Thor to reach underneath his tunic to caress the smooth skin. And Thor does, letting his fingers feel the slender muscles before skimming down along Loki’s spine, working his way to the mounds of his ass, squeezing them with greedy fingers.

 

Loki is already tugging at the fastenings of Thor’s breeches, and his fingers are not as nimble as they usually are, but he manages to shove his hand in through the open flaps to pull Thor’s engorged cock out and Thor nearly spills a little at the feel of Loki’s touch on his flesh.

 

“I want you to take me,” Loki pants, lifting himself up in Thor’s lap to allow Thor to yank down Loki’s trousers and expose his ass, “please. I need it.”

 

Thor moans his agreement, already sinking his fingers in the cleft between Loki’s buttocks to rub at his opening. Loki lets out a small whine as Thor’s dry fingers seek to enter him, but he grinds down to meet them eagerly.

 

“We need oil, Loki,” Thor breathes, coming to his senses for long enough to realize that they can’t do this without some preparation, “I do not wish to hurt you.”

 

Loki lets out a frustrated groan, but he nods and stumbles up from Thor’s lap to go and rummage through his cabinets for their old vial of oil. Thor takes the opportunity to remove his tunic and breeches and settles down on the rug in front of the fireplace where the fur has been warmed by the fire all night long.

 

Loki undresses as he makes his way back and Thor welcomes him in his arms, rolling Loki on to his back to fit their bodies together as he claims his brother’s blood-red mouth in another kiss.

 

“The vial is almost empty,” Loki laments against Thor’s lips, a reminder that they have not had use for it for two years.

 

“We’ll make do with what we have,” Thor smiles. He holds out his hand and allows Loki to pour the remaining oil on his palm, dipping two of his fingers in the amber liquid.

 

Loki is impatient, already spreading his legs for Thor, his prick hard and leaking against his abdomen, but when Thor reaches down to wrap his fingers around Loki’s cock, Loki shakes his head, pushing Thor’s hand away. “No, don’t! I… I won't last if you touch me there.”

 

Thor can only assume that Loki hasn’t been properly intimate in a long time and their brief tryst a few months ago was hardly enough to quench the need that has been building over the time of their separation.

 

“Hurry,” Loki sighs, breathless with want, taking Thor’s hand in his own to guide his oil-slick fingers between his thighs.

 

Loki is tight, tighter than he’s been in centuries and Thor is trying to be patient for the both of them, ignoring Loki’s pleas and low moans, taking his time to prepare his brother for his girth.

 

“Thor, I’m ready,” Loki insists as he begins to fuck himself on Thor’s fingers, relishing in the way their blunt thickness fills him. Thor lets Loki use his fingers to take the edge off and he wraps his other hand around his own cock to lather it with the remaining oil.

 

He withdraws his fingers but before he even has a chance to settle between Loki’s thighs, Loki has wrapped his long legs around Thor’s waist to pull him close and trap Thor against his body. He sinks his hands in Thor’s hair, twirling one of the tiny braids around his fingers, hiding his face in the crook of Thor’s neck as Thor finally guides himself in.

 

Loki may be eager, but it takes a few tries before Thor is able to slip the blunt head of his prick past the initial resistance and Loki lets out a sharp cry at that.

 

“Do you need a moment?” Thor murmurs.

 

Loki shakes his head, but Thor can hear his rapid panting in his ear and he waits until Loki’s breathing evens out before he continues to slide in, sinking deeper into Loki’s heat.

 

Being inside his brother again is beyond Thor’s most vivid dreams and memories. His every sense is heightened despite the mead and the wine, and Loki’s mere presence is enough to make Thor cry out with pleasure.

 

“Thor…” Loki moans against Thor’s cheek, his hold around Thor almost suffocating in its tightness.

 

“I’ve got you,” Thor hums, “I’ve got you.” He begins to thrust, slow at first, building up a steady pace, trying to remember which angle and speed Loki prefers, and Loki guides him with approving little sighs and mewls.

 

But Loki is not the only one who’s had to forgo physical intimacy over the last two years and Thor can already feel his orgasm building. Instead of trying to prevent it, he grabs hold of Loki’s hips and allows his lust to flow unchecked as he chases his own pleasure, determined to take Loki down with him. The new angle and the punishing pace prove to be too much for Loki and he wails as he spills copiously all over himself, thick white streaks of seed landing on his heaving chest and stomach.

 

Loki continues to tremble in Thor’s arms, his thighs tightening around Thor’s waist and his body finally milks Thor’s own release out of him.

 

“Yes,” Loki sighs as Thor begins to spill deep inside his brother, filling him until every last drop of seed has been drained from him.

 

Thor stays sheathed inside of Loki until he grows soft and slips out, a trail of wetness seeping between the cleft of Loki’s ass. He rolls to lie on his back and Loki drapes himself over Thor’s chest, the long fingers of his right hand holding on to Thor’s bicep almost possessively.

 

The flames in the fireplace have turned to embers and Thor begins to shiver as the sweat on his skin starts to cool. He attempts to sit up, but Loki’s hold on his arm tightens.

 

“I will be right back,” Thor assures. Loki reluctantly releases his hold and Thor crosses the room to get some pillows and warm furs from the bed, and Loki relaxes against the rug the moment he sees that Thor intends to stay and spend the rest of the night in his company.

 

Thor joins Loki under the thick white furs and welcomes him in his arms, wrapping them around his brother's naked frame. Loki hovers over Thor’s face, his gaze fixed on Thor’s lips and Thor recognizes the wordless question in his eyes. “You need not ask, Loki,” he smiles, leaning up to bring their lips together in a languid kiss.


End file.
